


Kiss It Better

by duperstar



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: 2014 Winter Olympics, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-29
Updated: 2014-03-29
Packaged: 2018-01-17 11:31:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1386049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duperstar/pseuds/duperstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Evgeni Malkin and Alexander Ovechkin are hurting and blaming themselves for Russia's Olympic disaster in Sochi. <br/>They try to make the other feel better and realise something they probably should've known sooner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss It Better

Geno didn't want to move. He dropped down to the ice and wanted to stay there. He’d stay there long enough for the ice to melt around him and wouldn't even move if the water overcame him. Everything he’d dreamt about had been taken away from him and it was his fault. He didn't score enough, he didn't create enough, he couldn’t lead the team to their gold medal; any medal.

It hurt so much. He could feel the eyes bearing down on him in the Bolshoy Arena. They’d lost in front of his country. All he wanted was to win a gold in front of his friends and family; the people who got him to where he was today. Geno wanted to say thank you by winning gold, but instead he disappointed them, all of them.

If it wasn't for the cameras and fans and other players surrounding him, then he would’ve broke down right there. He wanted to let the tears fall and hide away from everyone that he had let down, but he knew this was on him and he couldn’t do that. He was a man with pride and even though it felt like every ounce of it had been torn out of him, he knew he had to remain strong and brave. Everyone was hurting; not just him. He wanted to be the one to lift them, even if he was breaking inside and knew there were no positives he could take from this.

When he got up he saw the faces of his shocked and lifeless teammates, he saw the faces of the fans that had put all their hope into them and then he saw the Finns; the smiles and celebration and overall happiness that felt like a stab in the gut. It should be them. Russia should be going through. Their poor performance meant that they didn't deserve it, but Geno knew that they could’ve been there. They had star power and a home advantage, but they weren’t good enough. He wasn't good enough.

It was his fault the Finns were stealing their chance to impress at home.

Ovechkin skated over to him and hugged him tight. Geno relaxed into the hold before pulling back because he didn't want to breakdown in the arms of Alexander Ovechkin. He wanted to save the imminent breakdown until he was on his own and away from it all.

They looked at each other and both wanted to force a smile, anything really that could show some assurance or in any way imply that everything would be alright. An action like that couldn’t be forced this time though. They both knew that this could be it for them. They’d screwed up and they couldn’t fix it because it was too late.

Both of them had red, glassed over eyes but equally both were holding hard facial expressions, trying to take responsibility whilst keeping the tough act up. They were tough hockey players still, even if everything they’d wanted had been taken away from them, even if they blamed themselves, even if they were completely broken.

Ovechkin’s face was the first to crack as his lip began to quiver, so Geno pulled him in for another hug, quick and subtle before releasing him again. Ovi regained his stoic face to ready himself for the handshakes. This, he was dreading.

Ovechkin stayed strong throughout the handshakes, but Geno felt himself losing it when he reached Jussi Jokinen. He muttered a ‘well done’ but couldn’t get anything else out due to emotion clogging his throat up. Juice hugged him and tapped his shoulder, wishing him the best and giving commiserations without saying anything; there was nothing to say.

Geno was proud of his rookie and his linemate, but he wasn't happy. As much as he wanted them to do well, he was hoping Finland would come third, with Russia taking the gold. He did not want this, no matter how much he hoped for his friends to do well.

He didn't know what to do, so he dropped his head down and walked back to the locker room, blanking the reporters even more than he normally would. He dropped a towel over his head so no one could see how upset he was. He was meant to be lifting them, but he knew he was crumbling and couldn’t do it.

He wished Sid was with him. Not because he wanted Sid to be feeling this way too, but because he’s normally there. Normally when they suffer a tough loss, Sid suffers too and they can help each other to recover. Sid always knows what to say. But Sid’s not here and Geno knows already that Sid will be bringing home another Gold medal. He can’t go to Sid. He doesn't want to see Sid with the prize that he’d been dreaming of. Sid had already had his go; this was meant to be Geno’s turn.

Ovechkin had stayed to talk to the media, which Geno respected him for. He loved and hated that man at times, but Ovi can do his job well no matter how he’s feeling inside. Geno could only wish to be able to control his emotions like Ovechkin does.

When he returned, Ovi sat down right next to Geno and placed a hand firmly on his knee.

“It’s not your fault,” he whispered to him in Russian. “We didn't play as a team. The blame is equal.”

Geno kept his face covered with the towel but moved closer to Alex, slightly leaning into the other man. He didn't want to talk just yet, but he wanted Alex there with him. He felt better with someone there at his side.

Most of the room seemed angry rather than upset, some even seemed like that were in denial, purely shocked that the team they’d thought could go all the way didn't even make it to the medal games. Geno wished he could be angry, but right now he felt too empty for that. He didn't have the energy to be mad with himself.

“We can call Sid when we get out of here,” Ovechkin suggested.

Geno shook his head. He didn't want to talk to Sid and Sid had a game later so he knew he probably wouldn't want to see him either.

He didn't know what he wanted now because he couldn’t have the thing he wanted anymore. His gold wasn't going to be his.

Geno took a breath before moving the towel away from his face.

“I’m sorry I didn't score,” he whispered, staring at the ground. “I'm sorry I didn't set you up enough. And...I'm sorry we lose.”

Alex wrapped an arm around his fellow Russian’s shoulder and gave him a squeeze. He knew he couldn’t convince Geno that it wasn't his fault, just like he knew he wasn't going to stop blaming himself as well. Alex took responsibility for the loss, even the coaches ended up blaming him. The stars didn't produce and he wasn't going to pretend that it wasn't down to him.

Ovechkin and Malkin were the last players remaining in the locker room. They both felt more comfortable with no one else there. It was easier between them when no one was watching. It was natural. Neither had got out of their gear yet or even considered a shower. They needed to go over the game in their heads’ first. Analyse everything that went wrong; consider if anything went right and learn how to stop this from happening again.

Alex had moved to the other side of the room, wanting his own space while he analysed his actions. He didn't worry about getting upset in front of Geno. It had happened before and he knew it was bound to happen again, but he was comfortable around G, so if he did let some tears fall, he wasn't going to be ashamed of it.

Geno decided to distract himself from his own thoughts by getting out of his gear. He slowly started stripping down, but he didn't get very far. He dropped back down onto the bench, dressed in just his boxers and under armour. He didn't have the energy. He didn't care.

“Sanja, I can’t do this,” he announced to the empty room. His head was in his hands and Ovi was now watching him from across the room, his heart aching.

Geno couldn’t find a positive. He couldn’t find anything to cheer himself up. The good plays he made didn't result in a goal so they didn't matter. The bad plays maybe stopped goals from happening. Some credit had to go to Tuukka Rask and the Finns, but Geno didn't see it that way. There was no reason why they had to lose. So it must’ve been their fault.

“I told you it’s not your fault, Zhenya,” Alex said from across the room. “You tried. You did your best.” Ovi was hurting too, but he wanted to make Malkin feel better. “Why don't you listen to me? I don't lie.”

Geno looked up and locked eyes with him across the distance. There was a slight smile on his face, but overall he looked crushed.

“Sanja big liar,” Geno muttered, shaking his head. “I can’t trust what you say when I know it’s not true.”

Alex couldn’t take it anymore so he got up and strode over to Geno, dropping to his knees in front of him. Geno looked down at him from where he was sat on the bench.

“I don't lie,” he said, grabbing hold of Geno’s chin and making sure he was watching him. “You don't suck,” he hissed, feeling a tightness in his stomach. “You did all you could, G. You blew me away out there.” The tightness struck him again and he felt heat in his cheeks as he watched Geno’s tongue nervously lick his lips.

Geno placed his hands on Alex’s shoulders and looked him in the eye. He knew that Ovi wanted to cheer him up, but he also knew that he wasn't the only one hurting. He was pretending to be okay for Geno’s sake, but he didn't want that. They’re both broken and they should share this moment equally.

“It’s not your fault either,” Geno whispered. He judged the situation quickly. He sensed Alex’s nerves and how he flinched as Geno touched him, the darkening of the red in his cheeks. He took the chance.

When Ovechkin looked up at him this time, his eyes were tearing up as he was finally allowing himself to stop hiding his hurt. Geno wanted to help. He closed the space between them and put his lips softly against Alex’s. It was the softest he’d ever kissed anyone, despite Alex being the toughest person he knows. He was scared of hurting him.

“Fuck,” Alex whispered under his breath, their foreheads still touching as they separated, leaving them sharing each other’s air and feeling the other’s breath against their own. Both were red in the face, both had tears in their eyes and down their cheeks. Neither were pretending to be strong anymore.

Geno waited a few moments before using the leverage he had from being sat on the bench to lean down and place a firmer kiss to Alex’s lips. It was still gentle by his standards, but this time it didn't show any doubt. They both wanted to do it and they kissed each other with meaning, trying to ease the pain the other was feeling, to show the other that they understood. They wanted to take the pressure away. To feel better.

Ovechkin pushed himself up higher on his knees to deepen the kiss, one hand gripping tightly on Geno’s bare knee, with the other at Evgeni’s face, wiping the tears from his cheeks.

“Sanja,” Geno moaned against Alex’s lips.

Ovechkin’s felt that same tightness inside him again. He ached to be with Geno more, to be closer to him. He needed him right now.

Ovi bit down on Geno’s lip which led to Geno backing off, looking shocked.

Alex laughed. It was a strained laugh, almost nervous, but the loss was starting to hurt less heavily on his mind. He was distracted by the man in front of him.

“Don’t you play rough with Sid?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. Geno blushed and turned away, annoyed that his friend would mention Sid right now. They are just friends, most of the time. Then again, he saw Alex as just a friend too, most of the time.

Geno’s mind started racing. Thoughts of the game and being with Ovi and then Sid all started filing it at once.

“Hey,” Ovi whispered, lowering his head and gently nuzzling it against Geno’s exposed thigh, regaining his attention. Geno held back his moan as he felt Ovechkin against him, his hair prickling against his legs. He imagined how it’s feel if Ovechkin went higher. Having Ovechkin’s head there, his lips around him...

“Tease,” Geno moaned, throwing his head back as Ovi leaned his head against his crotch. The pressure made it hard for him to control himself. He felt like he’d lacked control all day, but with Ovi he didn't mind losing it.

When Alex looked up at him again Geno’s mind stopped worrying about Russia and their failure, and instead turned onto lust and the need to be with him. Alex looked so desperate and needy, but Geno knew that he looked the same at that moment, because they needed each other.

“Can I?” Ovi asked carefully, locking eyes with the taller Russian as he moved his hand to grab at Geno boxer-clad crotch. He was hard beneath his touch and growing harder.

Geno’s dick twitched at the thought. He wanted it; needed it, even. He nodded and bit down on his lip before lifting himself up and allowing Alex to remove his boxers, leaving him feeling even more bare and exposed.

They looked at each other for a few moments, they looked worried but desperate. They wanted to help lift each other.

Ovechkin nodded to him before taking hold of the younger Russian’s hand and lacing their fingers together. He kissed each of Geno’s fingers softly, calming him down before encouraging Evgeni to part his knees so Alex could angle himself between them. Neither of them had done this with a man before, they didn't know what to expect or how to explain how much they wanted it, but they both did.

With their hands still entwined, Ovechkin lowered his head and placed his lips around Geno’s already leaking cock. Geno’s breath caught in his throat as he looked at the man that was on him. And then he closed his eyes and gave up control, allowing himself to moan when Ovechkin’s tongue slid along his length and to let out uneven breaths as the pleasure took over him.

Alex toyed with the tip, rolling his tongue over the sensitive area and enjoying as Evgeni shifted desperately beneath him to try and get more contact. Alex used the hand that wasn't being violently gripped in Geno’s to start massaging his balls, timing it with Geno’s own thrusts into his mouth. He tried to take him whole, feeling Geno’s length at the back of his throat. He gagged but didn't allow Geno to stop.

“FUCK!” Geno shouted. A stream of curses followed as Alex’s tongue worked on him and applied agonising pressure against him.

Geno was holding Alex’s had with a painful grip and pulling at his hair with the other, but Ovi was moaning too, clearly enjoying the sensation.

Alex dropped one of his hands down into his own pants, needing some friction down there too. It was too much. Too much for Geno. Too much for Alex.

“Fuck, Sanja,” Geno moaned, his thrusts into Ovi’s mouth started to be even more desperate, wanting to last longer than he could do. And that’s when he came. The release felt amazing. It was the release that he needed from an emotional and stressful day.

His head fell back against the locker behind him and his eyes clouded over. After his breathing evened out, he looked down at Alex, who was still on his knees between Geno’s legs. His hair was a mess from Geno’s hand tearing at it and his chin still had cum on it, but he looked beautiful and as lustful and relaxed as Geno felt.

“Wow,” Geno whispered, gazing affectionately into Alex’s eyes. His stare then dropped down to where Ovi’s hand was, underneath his gear and clearly wrapped around his own cock. Geno licked his lips and dropped himself down onto the floor next to Alex.

“Let me do it,” Geno told him, tapping lightly on Ovechkin’s arm.

Ovi moaned as his pulled his hand out, then they both worked to get him out of his gear, leaving them both exposed to each other.

“You’re so fucking hot right now,” Ovi whispered. “I watched you cum, fucking beaut-“ He let out a chocked moan as Geno wrapped his hand on his dick. “Oh fuck, G, fuck.”

Geno smirked, enjoying watching his friend losing himself in front of him.

He flicked his wrist against Ovi, feeling proud of the moan that the older man made, before pumping him through his orgasm.

“Fucking hell,” Ovechkin panted. “Fuck.”

He didn't last long as he was already desperate to cum when Geno first touched him, but Geno didn't let go until Ovi stilled, which meant a lot to him.

“Wow,” Ovi agreed with Geno’s earlier statement.

They lent back against the locker, both naked and spent, but remained silent so they could take in everything that happened. It was a long hard day.

“I promise it wasn't your fault,” Ovechkin said again, knowing that Geno’s mind wasn't being distracted anymore and had already gone back to the dark place.

“I know.” He sighed, forcing himself to believe. “Not yours either... Thank you,” he whispered.

Ovi shook his head and took hold of Geno’s hand again.

“Thanks, Zhenya. We’ll win it next time.”

Geno smiled and even though he had his doubts about there even being a next time, he accepted it and promised himself that he’d try.

“Next time, Ovi,” he agreed.

Ovi laughed and then turned to face him, kissing him lightly on the lips.

“Maybe we should do this again?” he suggested. Geno smiled.

“Evgeni Malkin in a relationship with Alex Ovechkin?” Geno thought out loud, considering what Ovi was suggesting. “Worst idea I ever heard.” He smirked.

Alex playfully hit him and then calmed again.

“You’re probably right.” He sighed. “Nothing serious then. But I want to make a deal, okay?” Geno nodded. “We do this again, properly, when we win Gold, yes?”

Geno scanned Oveckin’s face, trying to work out if he was serious about him and Ovechkin becoming him _and_ Ovechkin. Like he’d said early, Ovechkin doesn't lie.

“Deal,” Geno decided.

“And when Washington win Stanley Cup, I give you consolation sex?” Alex asked him with a laugh.

In reponse Geno let out a much larger laugh.

“You’re a comedian now?” He laughed harder, before redeeming himself. “I joke. I joke. Okay, deal again. But same goes when Pittsburgh win, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Ovechkin agreed. “You’re on.”

 

Geno felt hurt when he watched Juice and Maatta with their bronze medals and Sid and Kuni with their gold’s. He was happy for them, deep down, but at the surface he was still hurting. He couldn’t talk to them properly, not just yet. Especially since the day before he left Sochi he’d ended up sleeping with an opposition player. He didn't know what him and Ovechkin were, but he enjoyed talking to him and being with him, even if it was mainly just texting now they’re back in the season.

He spoke to Sid about it, about everything. They talked about how he felt about the Olympics, how he felt about the way he was playing and of course he ended up confessing everything that happened with Alex to him too. He trusted Sid and respected their friendship. In typical Sid fashion, he helped with everything and made Geno feel better again.

He didn't do it the way Ovechkin had, which would’ve made things more complicated. He just ensured that Geno talked and cleared his head. He was a good captain. Geno’s captain.

The talk made him ready to finish the season, for a playoff battle, for the chance to win the cup and an opportunity to see where his relationship with Alex Ovechkin could go.

Losing at Sochi still hurt painfully, but Geno didn't see it as the end of the world anymore. The future had the potential of being better for him and he hoped, _hoped_ that everything would fall into place.  

**Author's Note:**

> All the speech would be done in Russian, obviously, but I don't know Russian and google translating the whole thing wouldn't really work... 
> 
> I kinda wanted to write something like this because I was so upset for Geno and Ovi when Russia got eliminated, but happy for Jokinen and Maatta, but still sad?
> 
> The Olympics hurt basically.
> 
> Everything hurts :'(
> 
> And this was meant to be sadder but the sad sorta faded but it hopefully still works even if it isn't completely how I wanted it.


End file.
